Colours
by beforethestorm.88
Summary: What Marissa sees. Reposted.
1. Chapter 1

**Colours**

Disclaimer: I don't on the OC, or its characters.

**Part One: Black**

Black. Black? An absence of colour. Yes, an absence. But not of colour, of reality, consciousness. For that is all she registered. Within her very being, it lived. It grew, it consumed. Within any given moment, this was her. Her soul. She never knew anything else. Just that absence.

Since when? Not always surely. It could never be like that. For once, long ago, there was colour. Every imaginable colour. For now, however, she lives in black. For this is her safety, refuge. She hides in herself, restless, fiercely cautioned of the outside world.

A flash. Is someone, something out there? A glimmer of hope. No, never. For she is alone. Always, forever. In the past she once tried to rip away the darkness, find light. Any source. A candle, flashlight? No. Not external light. Internal. Love, acceptance, a home. She tries to grab a sense of reality once more.

She blinks. Ocean emblazoned orbs look, but do not see. For what can they? More emptiness. More sorrow. Wisps of humanity brush against her. She tries, again and again, to clasp this. To reach this. This possible colour amend the black. Successful? Never. Never again. A lone tear drips down her face. She falls back and sees nothing. Except for that one absence: of consciousness. Black.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter 1 .

A continuation to Black. It has a different flow to it although there are similarities. Please R & R. Thanks.

WARNING: contains self-harm.

**Red**

For now she saw a different colour. A colour related to courage and passion. Yes, passion. A passion to inflict was much pain as possible. Pain? She sees pain, she lives it. A different entity resides in her very soul. A flash of metal. A drop falls. A drop hits the ground. A soft sound is heard. Of blood. No, surely not blood? Yes. It colours the beige tiles. Colours her clothes. Colours her. It is there. A reminder of her existence.

She slips into a dream world. A sigh. Of contentment. Only here is she safe. Away from all the plagues her. She has no one. And finally there is acceptance. Acceptance? To what? To learn that a blade is her only friend. It provides a level of comfort that once she felt in reality. Black reclaims her slowly. Her once favourite colour. Consciousness slips from her grasp. She falls. Everything scatters.

A bright light stings her once lively eyes. She slowly, ever so gently, regains herself. Regains her colour. Red. She traces a mark down her arm. It is red. Everything is. Another flash. Another drop. Another soft sound. And finally a tone tear falls. A tear of passion. A tear of pain. A tear that is one colour. Red.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you YellyBelly for reviewing. This chapter's for you! Also, I'd like to know where there were spelling errors :). The only ones might be the different spellings of colours and favourite. I'm Canadian and we spell words like that with 'our' instead of 'or'. Furthermore, I forgot to mention the time frame in which this takes place. Right after Trey attempts to rape Marissa.

**Chapter 3: Violet**

**Disclaimer: see first chapter.**

WARNING: contains self-harm

Again a different shade to her life. Violet. The colour of kings. Royalty. She miserably laughs. If only. If only she could have such a life. The past? Yes, once she was a princess. Now? The present? Pain. Suffering. Distrust. Remorse. Now she sees violet. Violet bruises. There for what seems to be an eternity. From attacks. She shivers. She sees something.

She returns to red. Her solitude. Another flash, cut, drop, scar. A sad smile graces her face. Existence once more fulfilled. For a second, she experiences an emotion lost within the years. She sees a meaning towards heaven. Red: the way she deals. The way she gets by. Suddenly. Without warning. Red and violet merge. Into. Something gruesome. A chaotic blend of emotions. Her head swirls. She falls. She clings. To? To a solitary part of her tarnished soul. It slips. Away. Once more to black.

As consciousness emerges within her she sees violet. A once proud royalty. She wonders. Spirituality? Perhaps. Illusions of hope painted within a world crying out in pain. She understands. They all need something to hold to. She recedes back into herself. Her shell. Shelter? Yes, away from the world. For the last time, her fingers brush the bruises. They sickly laugh at her. Violet.


End file.
